Time Stands Still

She was a busy woman, many fingers in many pies and her eternal batteries never seemed to die out, that was not until she hit her 40’s. With two children to add to her list of achievements, a grumpy husband whose middle name was apathetic she internally groaned like a workhorse as she sped around each day doing this and that. Evening would arrive and maybe the furrowed brow woman might stop for a moment, the briefest of moments in a panic as her eldest son would say “did you have a good day mummy?” Sometimes a cold dread would wash over her body as she forgot what had just passed the last 12 hours of her crazy day. It was as if her brain had been wiped clean. Palm would wipe brow a moment as another question was fired “mummy, did you not hear me, did you have a good day, what did you do today mummy?”

Still a pause as her brain ground on and on, thinking, panic, ‘OMG how could I forget what I have just done, what day is it, remember my diary that might help me remember’.

A sigh of disappointment “I guess mummy is too busy to talk to me” came the child’s voice “no, no, give me a moment, sorry I am thinking”.

She glanced up to see her sons face of confusion “it was only today mummy!” “I know, I know, sorry, I heard you bear with me” came retort.

She answered with just a couple of things achieved out of the hundred that day, yet a feeling of satisfaction and actual heart felt achievement never really grew through her body. ‘right’ she said inside ‘I am going to go and set some time aside for me, yoga, something must be done’

That weekend instead of catching up on paperwork, or social media, they decided as a family to go to the funfair, one along the river Thames, full of the ‘old style’ arcades and mystical games. Her eyes glanced left and right as gold and red writing on various cubicles with strange large living sized dolls sat inside, reading palms and holes to put hands in to be grabbed presumably to give the children a squeal or a cry. She smiled, walking along “mummy, mummy come on let’s get out palms read” came excited voices. “Put your hand in mummy, let’s see what it says” came more excited squeals. So she did.

Lip was buttoned tight, resisting a sigh as nothing happened, the mechanical doll just groaned and creaked as it looked down to the mystical magical ball. “It’s done, pull your hand out mummy, lets get the paper, see what it says, what does it say mummy?”

The small snipped of paper arrived, much like the old fashioned bus tickets, on it a few typed words ‘slow or stop”, she frowned, crumpled up the paper, grumbling inside “what did say mummy awe you didn’t let me look” came aggrieved voices. “Just a load of rubbish children, come on it’s home time”.

The week ahead came and went, so did the next and the next until one day whilst riffling through her handbag she came across that slip of paper, wrinkling her nose as she walked along the riverbank it found itself being scrumpled up tight, finding new home amongst the low rippling waters, the pigeons flying down thinking it a treat of breaded morsel.

Hand dipped back down in to her bag, not looking where she was going the contents spilled out, she bent a pain racked through her body as she did so, blinding her for just a moment, time standing still for just that second, probably the first second of her life, but not the last it would appear.

Vision came back, as did the sound of life that had temporarily evaded her, as did the pain, glancing around she saw people walking by and smiling sometimes as they passed, children would point and some would toss a coin. The first time it happened, she went to move her hand, thinking something odd must have landed on her face, but she couldn’t move her arm, it was frozen in place, just like a statue, or was she a statue? Eyes seemed to see, glancing from side to side, yet they didn’t move, her breath in rapid gasps as fear started to take over her body, or was it a body? A soul trapped within a living statue, time stood still, she had no choice, she had stopped!

I love seeing and photographing these living statues that one can find scattered all over London and I am sure many other places. These few I snapped at Southbank and Covent Garden. I do always however get a couple of things happen to me when I see them, one is an odd kind of shivver, a fear, I cannot put my finger on it. Then there is complete wonder and awe at just how they can stand in whatever position it is for so long. Then that awful fear again at ‘OH MY, that must be soooo painful being like that all day’. I simply could not do it, so I do admire them, that is for sure. I also think most of them are very talented at the amount of work they put in to their actual costume, blows me away sometimes.

First of all I have to thank the beautiful Desley from Musings of a Frequently Flying Scientist who showed me amazing patience when giving me a lesson on how to my recently purchased Lightroom without which I wouldn’t be able to show you my ‘first’ photos edited with them here that I have today. Thank you so so much, it really is quite a technical feat all the admin of it, I love the editing, but the filing side, wooah, that has been beyond me, so very grateful for your help.

Secondly I saw a photograph within the Mindlovermisery’s writing prompts, of which you must pop by and join in. The reason it stopped me in my tracks is it was a photograph of a real statue that I had taken a photograph recently of, but with a twist, my photograph was of a living breathing person impersonating a statue, so it seemed fitting to hop on board the prompt wagon and see if I could come up with not only a photo but something written for this prompt.

This week I am asking you to imagine you wake up one morning and discover you have become a living statue in the midst of a busy street.

Weave a tale about the observations you make, the circumstances surrounding your present state, you could explore the terror of discovering you are stuck inside the statue and how do you get out. You could weave a tale about the strange world you find yourself in.

I am also linking my writing piece in with Dark Side Thursday, of which if you have a Dark Side, or want to tap in to it, this is the prompt for you, hosted by Andy Townend, you can find it here: Dark Side Thursday (weekly event)

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24 comments for “Time Stands Still”

This is excellent and what a demonstration of multi tasking skills! It is also a wonderful contribution to dark side thursday, I think the idea of being awake inside a frozen body is utterly terrifying, second only to the fear of being buried alive. Brilliant! And welcome to dark side thursday!

Wow I was mesmerized by your writing Justine. It has a poetic quality to it and it flows in a way that really draws the reader along. And what a beautiful collection of photographs. I especially like the second one where she is looking down at you.
Fantastic and enjoyable all round – well done!!
Oh and my absolute pleasure xox.

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